Flying Solo
by The Black Cat 666
Summary: Done for a request made by The Core of Justice. The reign of the hunter Grimmel was a long and terrible thing. Many were hurt, scarred, and killed in his rampage against Night Furies across the viking world, and the victims never forget. Enter Otieno, young dragon rider and survivor of the carnage these hunters left behind.
1. Prologue

The trading port of Redfoot was hardly a pleasant place.

It rose up from the seabed on a boggy slab of land that barely constituted as an island and flooded every time the storms came in, the buildings made of stone and covered in a thick layer of ocean debris and rotting seaweed. The smell alone was enough to ward off any of those with weak stomachs, and if that didn't work the frigid temperatures did a good job of keeping away others. Even worse still were the people that frequented that stinking sunken port; pirates and vagabonds. The locals were those who were too despot to leave; captains who had lost their ships, women stranded to populate the houses decorated in red. The only children were the urchins on the streets, filthy and starving, armed with knives and clever fingers to pinch any spare coin they possibly could from the pockets of the drunken passers-by.

The whole place was a disgusting heap of filth, but one young man in particularly saw more.

For this island full of drunks and pirates and lowlives also catered to _other _sorts… other sorts that concerned him quite a bit. In this place too lips were never looser. If anyone wanted to learn anything of value, they came here to learn it.

And that was what _he _was here for.

His steps were swift and silent, shoulders deceptively relaxed as he slipped off a recently-moored ship and past the other passengers so as to not be detected. He, after all, was not meant to be riding onboard. A shadow in the night, he entered the port town and weaved his way through the reeking crowd, his form small and thin compared to the majority of the heavyset danish men who spent their lives as pirates, traders, hunters, and pillagers. His small figure covered by a cloak drew him a few wolf-whistles from the heavier drunks who could not tell he was male. He ignored them and continued on; he was not here to pick a fight, as much as he wished to do so.

He wandered the streets heavy with night life and finally came to a stop outside of a pub, the door marked by a sign sporting a portly Monstrous Nightmare drinking from a frothing flagon.

_The Drunken Nightmare._

This pub was one of the most run-down pubs in the area, stinking more than others and with more than a few holes in the walls that tried halfheartedly to pass as windows and failed. The wooden rafters inside were rotting, and the place served only the cheapest swill available to mankind. Only the poorest sailors with the worst luck came here; the ones who were more likely to bemoan their woes and the most willing to try and sell information to turn their poor luck around.

And the master of this ruined establishment?

None more than the best broker of information that the young man knew, a solid source of his for years who operated under the belief that he hunted dragons. It was safer that way, the boy thought.

Striding past overcrowded tables, dodging between the harried serving-girls and gracefully stepping over the bodies of drunks slumped all over the floors, he made his way to the bar. There was one open seat, a man passed out drunk beside it with his tankard spilled all over his chest and magnanimous beard.

The young man pushed the seat slightly, watching the man's foot fall limply from where it rested on the chair's leg, and took his seat.

"You paying his tab?" The bartender asked, jerking his head at the unconscious patron. "Because he isn't."

"No." The man said, his voice holding only the slight tint of a foreign accent. "I'm here to speak to Zepple."

The man paused, eyes darting over his form, and then stated: "Zepple's had a bad run. You can talk if you can give proof you've spoken before."

Wordlessly, a hand the color of coffee extended from inside of the cloak, passing a wooden token into the other man's hand. He examined it for a moment, and then nodded. "Head to the back then, boy. He will speak to you."

He stood from the bar, sweeping the token back into the sleeve of his voluminous cloak, and strode towards the back of the shop. The drunk he left behind groaned as he came back into a state of half-consciousness, just enough to raise his tankard for more. The boy didn't watch to see if his wish was granted, instead wrinkling his nose and pushing open a rotted wooden door.

Closing it barely muffled the sounds of the outside, but that would help to prevent those trying to listen in from hearing what was said. There was an oaken desk positioned across from the entrance, a man with ash blond hair and two blind white eyes seated behind it, face scarred many times over and hands withered where they crossed atop the crumbling desk.

"Ah, Otieno. It is good to hear you again."

How the old man knew it was him, Otieno would never know. He was blind as a bat since birth, but he may as well have had full vision. He felt no need to keep on his hood in here, instead flicking it off of his head, allowing his face to be revealed to a room where none could see it.

"Hello, Zepple." He was well aware that this wasn't the man's real name, but it still seemed to oddly fit him.

"Fishing for information on Night Furies again, hmm?" The man asks. "I'd like to say I had something for you, but unfortunately I don't have any verified information."

In other words, it could be something, or it could just be a rumor. Otieno frowned to himself, but knew that when it came to these rather elusive dragons he had to take what he could get. "How much for it?"

"I normally wouldn't charge you for something like whispered drunken rumors with no way to tell how accurate they are, however…" He folded his palms. "I am well aware you do not intend to aid me in verifying that information whether or not it proves true. I will charge half my usual fee."

That still wouldn't be cheap. Otieno reluctantly fished five gold coins from the pouch hidden on his belt. It was pricey for something like a rumor, but any information on the whereabouts of Night Furies was more than worth it. He sets the coins in a stack on the table, and watches as thin, wrinkled fingers feels each coin to ensure he'd paid the correct amount, and then slid them back across the desk towards himself. "It is said that on Berk a man named the Dragon Conqueror defeated the beast at the Dragon's nest and controls even a Night Fury."

A feeling akin to a cloud of ice filled Otieno's soul at that. "Anything else on this Dragon Conqueror?"

"Only that he is supposedly ten feet tall with the strength of a thousand vikings, though I doubt this is highly exaggerated. Tales grow every time they are told."

"Thank you for this information, Zepple." He states, pulling his hood back over his head.

"Do not thank me for something you paid for." Zepple replied. "It was no favor."

"Your information has still saved me quite a bit of trouble in the past, and I suspect it will continue to in the future. That deserves thanks."

He slips out of the room without another word, back into the hall of filth and despair. He dodges past a man sobbing about a long-dead love, beard sticky with spilled ale, and makes it to the door. He is more than eager to make it away from the city streets and the crowds of humanity's lowest, soon finding his way to the bog where few travelers would go. The faint hiss of a terrible terror is the only sound to join him in this night, until he looks up to the sky.

A shadow eclipses the moon for a split second before a sound akin to rolling thunder interrupts the silence of the night, the haunting fog swirling ominously around beating wings as a dark shape drops to the ground. His dark eyes meet piercing blue, and a slight smile breaks the tension that had plagued his soul since he'd stowed aboard a ship to sneak into that accursed town.

"It is good to see you, Luna." He murmurs. A quiet warble sounds back, and a massive head rubs against his side like an overgrown cat. He runs a hand along midnight scales and scratches gently at her neck. "What do you say we get out of here?"

She has to lower herself closer to the ground in order to allow him to hop on, dropping to a crouch with her body snaking against the ground, one wing dropped low in case he needed the extra boost. He doesn't; hasn't needed it since he was a small child and she had first hit her growth spurt, but force of habit continues.

She rises to her full height, and he takes a deep breath.

It smells like regret. He pinches his nose to try and ward off the smell of the bog instead of the relieving night air he'd been hoping for, and beneath him Luna chuckles. "Let's get out of here."

A croon in agreement comes from her maw, and with a leap and a single wingbeat they're soaring swiftly and silently into the night.

_Now _Otieno takes a deep breath, enjoying clean air and not the smell of filth. There is no place better than this, flying with Luna in the peaceful night sky, far away from anyone and anything else, but…

"Berk, hmm? That name… We've heard it somewhere before, haven't we?"

Luna tilts her head back with a confused noise.

"That's where we're headed this time, big girl." He responds. "Zepple came through again. There's a Night Fury in that area, or so I'm told."

Her ears perk up, but swiftly flatten when she realizes the same thing he already knows. "Yes, another village. With any luck, however, we will be in and out before anyone realizes is."

She gives a chuff all-too-similar to a scoff and roles her eyes, as if to ask: _And when has Gefion ever been so kind to us?_

"That is the mark of a pessimist, Luna. We have to hold _some _hope at least."

She flicks her tail downwards, making them fly in a short undulating arc, and flicks her ears in irritation.

"I hear you loud and clear, Luna. I do not like it either," his mind strays to what he'd heard of this 'dragon conqueror', "but if we can save any of your kind, it will be worth it."

A heaving sigh leaves her lungs, and she finally straightens her course, shooting through the night sky and farther into the archipelago.

Otieno smiles at her back fondly before turning a serious gaze forwards.

It was time to rescue a Night Fury.


	2. Alvin and the Outcasts

The island of Berk: a rather inhospitable place positioned so close to the nest of the red death that the natives had to have heads of solid brick to be stubborn enough to stay. Like most of the men and women of this region he'd met, he expected them to be built more like bears than human beings. With this rumor of the Dragon Conqueror as well… he could honestly say he expected to see the place emblazoned with dragon bones as decor everywhere one went.

It was rather far from the regions Otieno and Luna normally stayed, and so the trip itself lasted a few days and nights, their breaks to rest only taking place at the height of daylight, when they were easiest to spot in the sky. The best way to avoid unwanted attention, Otieno had found, was to stick to the shadows where they could not be seen. The shadow of night suited their purposes quite nicely. Unfortunately for the two of them, Sol seemed not to wish to cooperate with them and chose the moment of their arrival to begin lifting the sun from beneath the waves, lightening the sky.

Luna lowered her flight to skim the waves so that they blended with the sea, and took the chance to examine the island.

It was… different than he expected, though not by much. He could see a dragon-killing arena off to one side, though no noise rose from its depths. Two massive stone monuments of vikings guarded the entrance to their docks, flames pouring from their mouths in a mockery of a fierce dragon's roar. Luna rose and banked right in order to stop their approach, not willing to come at the village head-on. If there truly was a dragon conqueror here capable of forcing their will over a Night Fury, then that course of action would be ill-advised.

Still, though, it was not like he expected. There was not a dragon-bone artwork to be found, and all of the mounts above doors were all carved wood, the faces of the dragons on them not seeming ferocious at the least. He raised an eyebrow at that. With that one nadder he could spot, one would expect these particular vikings to see dragons as cute housepets rather than a threat. And perhaps that was the case, what with a 'Dragon Conqueror' there to force them to obey.

But at the same time, it didn't really fit the spirit of a Dragon hunter. Furthermore, he didn't see a single dragon on the island.

_That is unnatural,_ he thought to himself. _There is hardly a place in this world where dragons do not reside._

The silence from that island was more than a little unnerving.

"Circle to the woods, Luna. We will search for other dragons there."

The silence continued. Tentative birdsong sprang up, and leaves rustled under Luna's wings when she didn't quite raise them in time to stop them from brushing the treetops. They contributed to the silence themselves, feeling as if the whole world were holding its breath.

Not a single terrible terror crowed with the birds for the oncoming morning light. No dragons emerged from well-hidden dens or the caverns on the cliffsides to take wing in the morning air. Not a single Nightmare roared at the birds for silence to continue sleeping. Not a single greeting call sounded for Luna from above or below.

There was just _nothing._

"Luna, land over there." He gestures to a hidden cove. She chuffs in wary agreement and dives, landing.

It's then that Otieno realizes just what is in this cove. A black scale immediately catches his eye, and the shape of the footprints paint a picture that he is all too familiar with.

"A night fury was here." He breathes. "And recently. Luna?"

She gives a shrill noise, tilting. He drops from her back, examining the tracks as Luna sniffs about for any fresh traces.

_These tracks are small, but the claws show the same amount of development as Luna's. That means this is probably a male. But…_

His eyes catch on other tracks in the dirt. _Human tracks, made at about the same time as the Night Fury's. No signs of fighting… was Zepple right about the Night Fury being this 'Dragon Conqueror's' thrall? _

It was certainly plausible, especially if this Night Fury really was a male. Luna may be friendly to him, but that was a result of their years spent together, the traumas they'd faced side-by-side and the horrors they had lived through. It was a bond forged of peril, the bond that kept them both alive and safe. Most female Night Furies wouldn't even give another _dragon _the time of day, much less a human. A female Night Fury would have eaten people with footprints this small without a second thought if she were wild. If she were particularly young, it may have been different, however…

_The scales are completely round. That's slightly different from a female's. So it looks like we are dealing with a young male here._

He rises to his feet and glances to Luna as she leaps across the lake, her feet striking the ground as lightly as possible considering her size; at least twice that of the male that had been residing in this cove.

"Anything?"

She chuffs and shakes her head. He clicks his tongue. There was no helping it, he supposed. Luna was no tracker-class. A Nadder would be able to trace that scent right to where they needed to go, but not a Night Fury.

"I suppose we'll have to do this the old fashioned way." He stated. "My apologies for having to do this again, Luna, but please hide in the forest near here in case he returns. I will head into the village to discover what I can, and will return here at around sundown; perhaps earlier if I discover everything I need to know before then."

A swift nod, and Luna took to the air, diving swiftly into the trees and vanishing.

It was rather easy for Otieno to spot the path leading out of the cove and tread up it, heading in the direction he remembered the village to be in. It was a long trek, and by the time he arrived the sun was already dangerously high.

_There are no visiting ships at the port,_ he notes from his perch hidden in the foliage just outside the village, _and so I cannot act as though I arrived on one of them. Not only is a village of this size bound to be a tight-knit community, but I am also clearly foreign. I cannot pretend to be a visiting relative. That means I will have to resort to stealth once more._

He takes a deep breath, calming his nerves and steeling his resolve, and merges with the shadows of the buildings as he slinks his way into town.

His first stop, he supposes, should be the forge. He had already spotted it before he entered the town, and so it's easy to locate. It is _less _easy to dodge the men and women on the street, but they all seem rather dull-witted.

The people, he supposes, are exactly as he imagined. They are all built as bears, the men sporting magnanimous beards and even the women covered in enough rippling muscle that their minds must have been crushed between their biceps. Perhaps that was why he was so easily able to slip past them, he mused with a spark of dry humor, a smirk gracing his lips for a split second.

"You _really _think we'll find something?" His interest is peaked as soon as he hears the voice. It's feminine, young enough to be in his own age group, but it sounded different than the men and women. It had… a different accent, perhaps?

Tilting his head in confusion, he slunk around a building, his eyes spying his quarry.

They were obviously teens, like him. By the looks of them, their footsteps were the ones he'd seen in the cove with the Night Fury's tracks. He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

While most in the village were thickset, the one who seemed to be leading the group was scrawny, looking rather physically weak. He was of a similar build, the young man in the shadows noted, to Otieno himself. The blond girl beside him was also built similarly, though her lean muscle set her apart. There was a set of rather unkempt-looking twins slouching their way alongside them, each looking to possess half an eel's brain, and two boys who looked rather normal for what he'd seen in their elders… save for the most-normal one, who actually seemed rather timid to offset his massive figure.

"We have to," the nasally voice of the leader replied. Otieno took a moment to get a good look at him, studying the boy. _Oily shaggy brown hair, a brown fur vest, the skinniest twig-arms I've ever seen… Only one leg?_

Huh. He seemed a bit _young _to be jumping on the amputee train, but Otieno guessed that every man had a story, no matter how scrawny that man might be.

"You said they got thrown into the _ocean_." The blond girl, the original speaker, stated. "Hiccup, I hate to break it to you, but…"

"He only threw them in last night, there must be _something_!" The boy, 'Hiccup', replied. "Come on, we're wasting daylight here!"

Well, he could investigate the forge, or…

_That seems rather important. If I lose them now, I won't get the chance to find out what they're doing again._

And so he follows, slinking between buildings, ducking under porches, always keeping those teens in sight. Thankfully they move farther and farther away from the rest of the people until they arrive at a beach. Otieno climbs the cliff-face and slips into a small cave, above them and out of view where he can safely eavesdrop on them without being spotted.

"Okay, everyone split up and start looking." Hiccup states. Otieno watches as the girl and the largest boy listen, while the twins and the idiot-looking boy start making… something.

It's a boring first few minutes, but they seem dedicated… well, the three who are actually searching seem dedicated. The other three look rather unhelpful, and for a moment Otieno feels pity for this 'Hiccup' person… and not only for his rather unfortunate name.

Finally, the least-helpful member of the bunch throws his hands up. "Uuuuugh! We've been here for _hours _and we haven't found _anything_!"

Otieno is not impressed.

"Wha… We've been here for _ten minutes, _and you've done nothing but build… _that_." The boy gestures derisively at the castle. Otieno watches, wondering if this feeling is what it means to deadpan.

"_That_, the boy says, "Is Snotlout manor!" _Oh please tell me that's not his name. _"And all I need now is a queen." He sidles up to the blond girl, who makes an expression of appropriate disgust.

Suddenly, the male twin roars, jumps on 'Snotlout Manor' and stomps around until things start falling apart while roaring like an autistic yeti. "What?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" The boy shrieks.

"Come on, guys! I'm telling you, Mildew framed our dragons!"

Otieno's head _snapped _up. His eyes fixated on Hiccup with rapt attention. _What did he just say? _"I saw dragon feet in Mildew's house, and I watched him throw them into the ocean!"

"I don't mean to be Norbert the Negative, but the ocean is really, _really _vast." The largest of the teens stated, "And our chances of finding those dragon feet are as good as Snotlout and Astrid…" He gestures to the female.

"Don't go there." She cuts him off.

"Going nowhere."

"Look, Fishlegs is right, even if Mildew _did _throw them into the ocean, they're not just going to wash up on shore here."

"I found it!" The unhelpful boy shouts, and Otieno whips around to face him.

"Great!" Hiccup clears his throat. "You were saying?" He rushes towards Snotlout, but he deflates at the same time Otieno facepalms.

Instead of a dragon foot, the boy is holding up a tiny club. "I haven't seen this since I was a baby." He beats himself twice over the head with it. "You never forget your first bludgeon."

The boy sighs exasperatedly. "Just keep looking."

Otieno decides that he won't be able to find anymore information here.

_Their dragons… so there WERE dragons here at one point, and by the sound of it they were here peacefully. They were framed for SOMETHING… so what was that, and how did it happen? Figuring that out will help me figure out where the dragons went, and by default where I can find that Night Fury._

He waits until their backs are turned and swiftly climbs down the rock face, darting through the rockier part of the beach along the cliffside to avoid being spotted, and heads back up the way they came up to the village.

_Alright, I might as well investigate… If it's dragons, food stores are a likely target to use for framing._

The food stores, it seemed, were fine. _Not touched… if I were looking to frame a dragon for anything the first thing I'd strike at would be the food stores. _

_Well, if something happened it was recent. A lot of people are walking around without shoes, too… maybe listening to the villagers will reveal something I'm missing._

He slips under a house near the center of town and tunes his ears to conversation.

"_My feet are so damn cold. When do ya think Gobber's goin' ta be done fixin' all our boots?"_

"_Those damned dragons…"_

So dragons… stole their boots?

_That sounds more like a dog than a dragon. A dragon wouldn't steal something as disgusting as a viking's boot. The smell alone should drive them away… and to steal a whole village's worth? There's no reason for that… it's not like they're food._

In other words, dragon framing material one was found.

He listens more. Most of the complaints are about the boots, and he's about to lose his patience until he hears: "_And that damn Night Fury blew up the armory!"_

His head snapped up. _Night Fury?_

"_Aye… now we're practically defenseless."_

Not the words Otieno would use to describe massive bear-men and women with just about the same level of intelligence and attitude, but yes, it would leave them very open to attack.

"_And what the Nightmare did to the Great Hall…"_

_Yes_, Otieno mentally prodded them, _So where are the dragons now?_

"Well, they won't be a problem anymore." One man says.

Otieno scowls at the end of that conversation and listens for another hour still, but no matter how hard he tries nobody seems to mention where, exactly, the dragons went. All he's managed to work out is that this village, for a time, lived in peace with dragons.

It's as he's slinking towards the Kill Ring to see what clues he can find that he finally locates the forge and catches a conversation. "One down, three-hundred-and-forty-five to go!"

The man with the blacksmith sighs, putting his head in his hand. "Can't you do that any faster? Until you restock our weapons we're completely defenseless."

"Maybe you should have thought about that before sending the dragons away."

That means this man must be the chief.

Otieno hides to listen again, deciding to mine this for all the information he can.

"You know I had no choice." The man states. "They destroyed the armory."

"This would be a very bad time to get attacked." The man states, and the sound of screaming metal makes Otieno wince, the cacophony nearly drowning out the rest of their words. If they hadn't raised their volume to hear each other talk, Otieno would have lost the train right there.

"I know, Gobber." The Chief states.

"Not that there's ever a _good _time, but this would be particularly bad."

"I _know, _Gobber."

"Especially by Alvin." The axe screams. "The treacherous." the screaming resumes. "Our oldest and most feared enemy."

_What is this, an exposition?_

"...Who'd kill us all to take Berk for his own." Oh, he wasn't done.

"I got it, Gobber!" The chief yells before the conversation pauses, and a hateful growl escapes the man's throat. "Alvin the Treacherous…"

The conversation stalls, meaning… _By Loki not again! _Well, at least he knows better than to search the kill ring. He doubts he'll find anything there.

Instead… _If you want to find important documents or information, you check the home of the highest-ranking member of the society._

In other words, he now needed to break into the house of the chief.

The building was rather easy to find, considering it's the biggest house of all, situated on a hill overlooking the entire village. He slips inside the backdoor, emboldened by the knowledge that the chief was out and the fact that there was no sound coming from indoors.

The house itself smelled of the pine it was made of, speaking of many recent patches. Lingering scents of meals cooked float through the air, along with the distinctive scorches of a Night Fury's flame in the fireplace.

_Bingo._

A cursory search of the lower floors reveals the chief's room and no one else down there with him. _It seems someone else DOES live here, but it doesn't seem as though that person is a wife. A child, perhaps? The dragon, obviously. Maybe even more than one?_

He slips into the chief's bedchamber.

_He seems not to have an office downstairs, so any documents would have to be here unless he keeps them elsewhere._

He is rather disappointed to find the room entirely devoid of any writing whatsoever, but considering the general behavior of the local danes he supposes he should hardly be surprised. He leaves the room just as he had found it and takes to searching the rest of the downstairs. Aside from blocks of ice cooling under the floorboards and several carvings of wooden animals, there is nothing out of the ordinary for any average viking's home. He takes note of the positions of each of the weapons on the walls in case he needs them, and then slinks as quietly as possible up the stairs.

The upstairs consists of a single room, a bedroom. By the size of the bed, he would guess that the chief did have a child after all. In the middle of the room under a window open to the air was a stone slab, scorched with flames and nicked with claw marks.

_So this is where the Night Fury slept._

His eyes scanned the room. _Bingo; it looks like his kid is the brains of the family. _

He heads to the desk, a charcoal pencil resting on the edge next to mountains of paper, and examines it.

His eyes light up when he spots the detailed drawings of a Night Fury. _Then the Night Fury was the child's partner… Meaning that this 'Dragon Conqueror' wasn't a 'conqueror' at all. _He smiles faintly at the dopey grins on the dragon's face. _No dragon would make a face like that to someone it feared. _

He shuffles through the papers, finding everything from old treasure maps, to drawings of the teens he'd seen earlier… sans one. _Does that mean… The scrawny Hiccup kid is the chief's son?_

He makes sure to replace each paper exactly as he found it, and when he goes through the shelves and drawers he makes sure everything remains in its exact position.

_An artificial tail?_

His eyes darken when he realizes what that means. _That dragon cannot fly on its own and this boy LEFT it. A downed dragon is a dead dragon, especially so for a male Night Fury. He has no future without his flight, and now it seems as if this boy controls its flight._

The only reason the two had bonded was because the dragon could not _live _without the boy, and this boy had _left _his Night Fury somewhere.

_He needs the Hidden World, and the only way I can get him there is if I can find him._

_Now… where to look?_

His musing is interrupted by the sound of the door banging open. _Shit! I stayed too long! _

"...I'm telling you, I saw a pair of zippleback feet in Mildew's house! He must've used them to make the footprints of the dragon who _supposedly _stole the boots!"

"Well then let's have a look at them." The chief says reasonably.

"Well, yeah, eh, uh, there's gonna be a problem with that. I also saw him throw them into the ocean."

Otieno withheld a scoff and rolled his eyes. The man would hardly be a good chief if he just took his word for it. To condemn a man for baseless accusations alone was the mark of a tyrant.

"I know you're upset about the dragons, son, but you're gonna need _evidence _to accuse a man of _high treason._"

The boy goes silent, and he hears footsteps treading out of the house. The chief, however, did not leave, instead sitting down in a chair by the fire as he sets it alight.

_Great. I've been lucky so far, but I can't sneak past him now. If I try to jump to the dragon door, he'll hear me thumping around and know someone was here._

But there _is _a window lower than that. If he wants out, he'll have to risk creaky floorboards.

He begins his precarious dance across the room, testing each floorboard with a foot, making sure to watch through the cracks in the floor to keep am eye on the Chief below. He slinks across the room and arrives at the window, peeking out, only to see…

_Damn, the heir is out there talking to his girlfriend now! If I jump down he'll see me!_

He crouches and waits silently, eyes narrow. _Patience, Otieno. You got yourself here, you can get yourself out. _

It's a true test of patience to wait there, crouched, legs slowly cramping from being held in that position for so long. Finally, though, the two head off… just in tine for the blacksmith to come back towards the house. He knocks on the door, and Otieno has to wait while the chief gets up and answers it. "Oh, hello, Gobber."

As soon as the door closes and they're inside, he jumps. He lands, tucking his legs in to roll, skids a step, and sprints for the forest. Once he arrives at the treeline he flattens himself to a tree and peers out behind him, watching and listening, heart louder than thunder in his chest.

_No one saw. I'm safe._

He breathes a sigh in relief. _The sun is setting. I may as well meet up with Luna, and we can return to try and gather more evidence._

It's only his experience spending day and night in a state of listless wakefulness that allows him to shrug off his exhaustion garnered from the day's activity and continue to trek into the woods as the sun goes down. When he arrives at the cove, Luna is resting on a rock and waiting for him.

"Luna." He states. She chirps in greeting, hopping down and trotting to him. She gives a curious purring noise as she curls around him, sitting down and demanding that they rest.

"Curious as ever, I see." He smiles. "It seems that rumors of a dragon conqueror have been highly exaggerated. The Night Fury, along with the other dragons of this village, live here in peace, or at least they did. They were exiled after being purportedly framed for various mischiefs around the village."

She growls in irritation, slapping the ground with her great finned tail, sharpening her claws in the soil. "I know, Luna. It irritates me as well. The dragons seem to no longer be on this island. I have not been able to discover to where they were sent, but it seems the Night Fury we seek is crippled." He looks to her tailfins, stating: "He has lost one of his flight-fins."

She recoils in horror, folding her fins and jerking her tail back at the news.

"It is likely he was trapped in this cove," he realizes. "The human boy - son of the chief - is the only one who can return it to the sky. That is the only reason they bonded."

She growls, flattening her ear-fins and shuffling her wings in agitation.

"We will get him to the Hidden World, Luna. Do not worry about that."

A contented noise escaped her throat, and she nodded, standing and offering her back to him. He clambered up with a smile. "Let us get some rest before we return to Berk. It does not seem as though the situation will change anytime soon."

And so Luna closes her wing over them, and the two drift off for some well-needed rest.

Otieno wakes not an hour later to the sound of the shrillest scream his eardrums have ever been burst by. Luna's head snaps up as well, and they listen as it fades.

"What was _that_?" He asks, incredulous. Luna growls, standing and offering him her back. He slips on, and in an instant she's taken to the sky like a ghost in the dark. They head in the direction of the scream, but find nothing.

"That;s not at all foreboding." Otieno states while Luna circles above the woods like a hunting hawk, blended perfectly with the dark night sky.

They spend a time more searching the woods before Otieno says: "Head to Berk. something may have happened."

With a small affirmative noise, Luna redirected their flight over the island.

His eyes narrow as they land on a group of men standing over the ruins of what must have been the armory, hefting a melted weapon. His eyes scanned the darkened village, tracking them as they headed up to the chief's house. He could tell by the light coming from within that the hearth was still lit.

A few words to distant to make out are exchanged, and then the man kicks in the door. If their previous demeanor had not been telling enough, this settled it: These men were invaders. _Perhaps this 'Alvin the Treacherous' I overheard those two talking about earlier?_

_No, that would be too much of a coincidence._

A group of four suddenly sprinted off to the forest, catching his attention.

"Follow them, Luna." He stated quietly. She grumbled quietly in response.

Tracking them through the woods was difficult, especially due to how high they had to fly to avoid Luna's wings being heard or their shadow interrupting the moonlight. It seems that they needn't have bothered, as the vikings handled the situation on their own. The invaders were down for the count in moments.

Luna landed on a rock nearby as they strained to listen to the conversation.

",,,Or maybe it's we who've got you!" The blacksmith with only two limbs taunts the unconscious men on the ground.

Twigs snapped, and Luna's head snapped up, a growl rattling quietly in her throat. Otieno reached to his back beneath his cloak and pulled out his crossbow, taking careful aim in case they were spotted.

Instead, the vikings reset their ambush, and the chief tackled the intruder who…

_Oh, oww, so that's who I heard screaming earlier._

"Oh for the love of Thor Fishlegs, I could've killed you!"

"Thank you… for _not _killing me."

"What are you doing here?"

"Alvin the Treacherous grabbed me. He looked _really _treacherous."

_Oh you have got to be joking._

"I _know _they're here, Fishlegs." The man growls.

"Yeah, they're here for _Hiccup_!"

Otieno tensed in alarm, and Luna hummed in confusion. _The other Night Fury's companion… the 'Dragon Conqueror'. I suppose this is the source of my information; Zepple got it from an Outcast! If I don't hurry there may be another army of controlled dragons out there soon, whether he wants that or not._

"Luna, the village. Now."

Luna turned and shot into the air with a snarl. He sae the vikings below jump out of their skins at the noise and winced. _Now they know._

Luna shot over the village, and they circled, looking for people, until Otieno spotted a sliver of light coming from the beach. "Down there."

Her head snapped to the side, and they landed atop the cliff, looking down. Below, all of the people of the village were being held captive by the enemy's forces.

_But I don't see Hiccup, or the enemy leader. It looks like one of the boats has disappeared as well… damn!_

Luna growled low in her throat, the sound breaking into a rattle.

"They hears us before, Luna. Let us give them a fright."

She sneered, curled her lips back, and gave a haunting keening sound not unlike the singing of a ghostly woman.

Mimicry was something that not many realized Night Furies were capable of, and especially human mimicry. Females were especially proficient in this skill which they used to quietly lure enemies away from their nests before killing them. Otieno and Luna had learned to use this for far more than just defense.

Otieno slipped from her back and drew his blade, slipping deeper into the shadows and waiting while Luna continued to 'Sing', the haunting noise just loud enough to echo down to the beach below.

"What in Thor's name is that?" A rough voice snapped.

"It's a ghost!" One of them whimpered.

"Then go kill the damn thing!"

"I don't want to kill it, you kill it!"

"If it's a ghost, can it even be killed?"

"It's a bloody distraction!" One man roars. "I'll go deal with it myself!"

Luna backs into the shadows as the man approaches, continuing to 'sing'. Otieno watches the man crest the hill, readying his shortsword in his grip. He climbs to the top of the cliff, and as he approaches Otieno watches him get close enough to see Luna's eyes and to hear the difference between her 'song' and a human's voice.

His eyes grew wide in horror, and he opened his mouth to scream as Luna's singing stopped.

He never got the chance.

A flash of death, Otieno sprang his ambush. His blade shone darkly in the moonlight in a shining arc straight through the man's throat. Blood sprayed in a gruesome arc, painting the stone, and a choked gargle left his throat. Before he could fall dead, Otieno twisted and aimed a harsh kick at the man's side, sending him flying over the ledge. He listened to the crash and the screams from below, and Luna howled hauntingly, an unmistakable Night Fury's wail.

"NIGHT FURY!" A man screamed.

"A GHOST NIGHT FURY!"  
"RUN AWAY! SAVE YOURSELVES!"  
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

Otieno smirked as the outcasts hightailed it down the beach. "Not an ounce of fight in them."

Luna snorted derisively, and he leapt onto her back. With a single wingbeat, they shot out over the ocean.

"Can you track the ship that left?" He asks, and she flies low, sniffing, and turns her head with a warble of confirmation.

"Then let's go." Despite their adventures on the side, after all, they _still _had a Night Fury to save... and by the looks of things, sooner rather than later.


End file.
